A collection of true gambling stories from America's top Casinos.

      True, Authentic, Factual, Amazing, Funny, Surreal, and Way Cool...
   

My "Psychic" Slot Win  
-by D. Johnson  Copyright © 2006   Slots player extraordinaire.

     I can only tell you that the "voice" came through very loud and very clear... and for once, I listened.

     I was playing in Biloxi, Mississippi, at the famous Beau Rivage Hotel and Casino. It wasn't my first time at the "Beau," and it sure won't be my last.  It was a typical morning.  Players were drinking coffee instead of boos, and the dominant sound was the clean-up crew's vacuum cleaners, rather than the loud buzzers and bells of slot machines.
     My husband, Michael, was in line at the Player Card desk, inquiring about comps and such, and I was just looking around when it happened.  "It" was a voice.  A comment.  A psychic instruction to play a certain machine. 
     And I know what you're thinking...  Am I a nut-job?  A loon, running from casino to casino trying to capitalize on imaginary "voices?"   I can honestly tell you that I am none of those things.  While I may have had a premonition or two in my life, what happen to me was unique, and unfortunately, not to be repeated.  I was "told" what machine to play, and I followed this information as if I was following orders in the army.
     "Where are you going?" asked my husband.
     "I'll be done in just a minute or two, hon." he said, not wanting to lose me.
      I responded absently by saying "I've got a feeling about a machine over there."  And slowly, as if in a dream, I disengaged from Michael and floated my way over to one of the "I Dream of Jeannie" quarter machines.  I could feel Michael's eyes on me, as he hoped I wouldn't stray too far.
      As is my custom, I start most machines off with a lone twenty dollar bill, not wanting to lose too much, too fast.   I put the twenty in, and got 80 quarter credits.  "Ready for action." I thought.
     And that's' when it hit, too.  A two-thousand dollar "signer," (so named for the IRS form the Casino requires large winners to sign as they pay you.)   
     Now I know what you're thinking:  It's a nice hit, but no big deal.  And you would have been right, except for the fact I hit on the dollar version of I Dream of Jeannie, too, for over $1,000.  And for $500. more on the nickel version.  All of these hits were preceded by "voices."   It was too fun to be eerie, but now that I look back on it, it was all very, very strange.

Author D. Johnson resides in Florida.

 home